


Just Once

by Indybaggins



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-27
Updated: 2007-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indybaggins/pseuds/Indybaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three reasons Colin and Greg needed a “just once”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Once

 

 

Curiosity 

Colin was shifting in his seat, hiding the beginning of a hard-on and sipping some stale stage-lights heated water, trying (not) to look at Greg, who was obviously _not_ looking at him but making a face at the camera. 

It had started innocently enough. 

A laugh, some quick quips back and forth, they were improvisers and they were good at what they did, in this case a scene that was so blatantly sexual even Colin blushed and Greg’s voice hadn’t sounded quite so nasal but something more like a purr, close to his ear. 

“We’re never going to air that,” Clive had announced with a strange glow in his eyes and a quick, meaningful glance to Greg, and suddenly they had been too startlingly close, clumsily breaking apart, Colin suppressing a shiver and Greg not quite meeting anyone’s eyes anymore. 

Greg’s touch had been tentative, and that was what had peeked his curiosity, Colin recalled. Greg was supposed to be harsh, cynical and sharp as glass, he could cut and make you bleed by his words alone. But his breath had been so soft, warm and just a bit moist, and he had seemed so carefully _sensual_ that in that moment his imagination had no problem transferring Greg to his bed, breathing those words into his ear.

Afterwards, he wouldn’t have said anything if Greg hadn’t, he knew. Greg didn’t speak exactly either, it was more of a crick of his neck and the pull of his fingers familiarly wrapped around his sleeve that had prompted him to follow Greg into the hallway, to a parking lot and a dark and shady side of what he presumed was the studio’s building. 

“Just once,” Greg had made him promise, and he did, brown eyes locked with the reflection of some distant streetlights in Greg’s glasses, his heart speeding in his chest “Just once.” 

When Greg kissed him it was surprisingly gentle, with a little too much tongue and he could smell the sour scent of his after-shave (their teeth clashed once which made them both pause and smile) and oddly clumsy, ‘like a first date’ Colin thought but then pushed it out of his mind, hands traveling under Greg’s vest and t-shirt, to touch warm and slightly clammy skin. 

When they shifted and leaned closer together, Colin could feel the heat of Greg’s erection near his thigh (and his own, straining against the fabric of his beige slacks now), his hands roaming and lips meeting and the intimate, close-up view of Greg enough to make him instantly care for the man. In all, it was warm and wet, and a tad melancholic-as if they both were waiting for something that didn’t quite happen yet. 

When it did, (mainly by Greg’s one-handed unzipping Colin’s trousers, wrapping a hand around his dick and stroking it, softly) he laughed a little and gasped, both aching to come and longing to return the favor. 

As he came, (five strokes later) Greg was sucking softly on his neckline, mouthing a wet and warm kiss there, and he cried out something that could have been “Greg!” but neither of them was listening really. When Colin went down on his knees soon after, Greg unzipped his own pants with a hint of _joy_ in his eyes, and allowed Colin to touch his dick curiously before guiding it into his mouth. 

It wasn’t the most practiced of blowjobs, or the best, Colin was sure, but as Greg helped him up after and whispered “Thanks” in his ear, he felt oddly pleased. They didn’t kiss again, but he lingered as Greg lighted a cigarette, before they walked back to the studio, arms occasionally touching. 

When they opened the door Clive was there, looking at them with a small smile around his lips. Greg didn’t return the smile, even had the decency to look vaguely apologetic, first at Colin and then, longer and more genuinely, at Clive, before walking away from them both. 

 

\---

 

Anger

…All he could see was a red haze, blurring and fading his vision like a real, breathing thing. Colin shoved Greg into a wall, wanted to goddamn _hurt_ him, and then released him, breathing heavily, his fists _aching_ to hit something but knowing hitting Greg wouldn’t help. They had been taunting each other for too long by then, both of them more wrecked each time they met and Ryan traveled from one to the other.

Greg grabbed his wrists, putting a lot of force behind it, and pushed him down and backwards until he stumbled and landed on the bed with Greg, face flushed and sweating and eyes squinted in anger, dominating and crawling over him. 

“Once,” Colin had both offered and demanded when was clear neither of them would really fight the other, and Greg had nodded, a flash of respect (or a memory?) in his eyes now, and their kiss had been pure violence this time, teeth clashing and hands grabbing at clothing, ripping things and leaving bruises everywhere. 

When Ryan burst through the door, they both instantly remembered they had been expecting him but neither of them cared, and they continued to rub and groan and _hurt_ , and Ryan looked away. 

They probably wouldn’t have gone that far if Ryan hadn’t been in the room he knew, but they did, unbuckling belts, touching, fisting erections, almost reaching a finish line neither of them had aimed for, when the hard bang of Ryan slamming the door behind him stopped them mid-movement. 

They eyed each other, and then finished what they started, a couple more strokes and they both came, panting, empty.

Afterwards they solemnly crawled off the bed, zipping up pants, buttoning shirts, wincing when they accidentally touched a sore spot. Once they got dressed there was a moment of undecided awkwardness (which they were used to, really, they both slept with the same man after all), but then Greg sat down and motioned to the seat across from him. 

They had a drink together, and then another, the last bottle of Ryan’s scotch, some whiskey, some undefined blue stuff. They wordlessly toasted to nothing but the sound of the ice cubes hitting the edge of the glass, and Greg lighting one cigarette after another. But when their eyes met and Greg grinned at him, Colin couldn’t help but smile back.

When he walked back to his own room near morning, soaringly drunk and the image of Greg present even behind his eyelids, he cynically laughed at his own stupidity. 

At least the anger was gone now. 

 

\---

 

Loneliness 

Colin found himself leaning into Greg’s side a little more, the both of them on a couch together, Brad on the other end, toasting to a well-done show. When he looked up into Greg’s eyes he could see his own emptyness mirrored there, and when he got up and excused himself for the night, Greg was two paces behind him in the hotel corridor. 

He waited until Greg closed the door behind them (Colin turned on the light this time), before falling into a kiss that was too deep and heartfelt to be a first anymore, both comforted by the familiar taste and feel and gentle current between them. 

They rolled onto the bed, Greg shedding his coat jacket and Colin toeing off his shoes, wrapping themselves in an embrace that soon turned into their bodies aligning for the most friction, they both remembered, of course they did, and it shouldn’t have been a surprise, not anymore.

They stripped off clothes and touched familiar skin and if it felt more _real_ this time, more of a love instead of so many other things, neither of them acknowledged it.

“Once?” Greg asked, breathing fast, one eyebrow quirked up in what he knew was a tease, and Colin laughed, murmuring “bastard…” before tensing up and letting out a slow and controlled breath when Greg entered him, concentration on both their faces and something akin to _admiration_ too. When Greg started moving he met his thrusts, neither of them breaking eye contact until it was just too good and Colin let go, Greg breathing something both soft and obscene. 

Afterwards they hung on to each other in what could almost be called a cuddle, only it was too desperate and tight to be purely romantic. “Is that what you told everybody?” Colin asked curiously to the prickly side of Greg’s cheek, hand almost awkwardly trailing over his back “that you’d… only once?” Greg’s laughter was deep and relaxed and shook them both, and after a short pause he replied, hand tracing Colin’s neck “Well, you know… Once is supposed to be no stings attached.” 

“I know,” Colin smiled into the flowery hotel pillow, and felt Greg tighten their embrace in an unvoiced emotion. “I know.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
